Paint You Wings
by flirting-with-your-timelord
Summary: AU: Servant Emma Swan has been living in the Evil Queen's Dark Castle for as long as she can remember. When she starts painting to cope with her feelings for the Evil Queen, she unknowingly becomes the Saviour that can halt the war brewing between the Kingdoms. However, will she choose to save the Queen or the Kingdoms?
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: I own none of Once Upon a Time or any of it's characters.**

**A/N: So, this happened after listening to All Time Low's album 'Don't Panic'. It is very loosely based off their song Paint You Wings (hint the title), which I think fits so well with Regina and Emma. So here we go, a long journey of me trying to finish this fic has started. I hope you enjoy. I've enjoyed planning it all, so I hope you enjoy reading it!**

**Also a big thanks to '**hunnyfresh**' for unofficially beta'ing for me, she's helped me so much. Some of her stories are fab, check them out! Another big thanks to '**once-upon-the-feels**' whose put up with me bouncing ideas off her for weeks!**

* * *

Chapter One

A sharp wind pushed over the grey bricks of the castle, the little insulation failing meekly under the harsh bite of the wind. Yet still life went on. Servants carried on scrubbing, washing, and cooking, regardless of the cold in their bones. Nothing ever stopped the workers from working - it was their job, their life.

The footsteps of a blonde-haired servant echoed along the stone corridors, her small heels clicking daintily. She felt a draft rush through her, the cold entering her body like something was piercing her skin. She wrapped her shawl around her. It was surprisingly warm for something so cheap, the fabric weak and frail, sinews pulling haughtily at each other. The Queen refused to give them decent clothes. Instead they were presented with rags which they were expected to keep for the duration of their employment. Some stayed a week, others stayed for years. Emma Swan had known no different. The castle was her home and her work, if she could even give it such positive connotations.

It was a prison.

Emma stepped to the side, letting the rush of guards in black and silver run past her, armour against chainmail. Something seemed to be going on within the castle, the Queen's mother had been shouting for the last 2 hours, ordering servants and guards around. Emma was used to it.

Steps descended down into the darkness, the only light coming from the burning torches lining the walls every 100 metres. The flames almost look joyful, dancing with the wind, like a charming waltz. It reminded Emma of the Ball the previous summer, with girls being spun round and round the floor like flowers floating in the air. Of course, Emma had only watched from the sidelines. The only thing resembling her prince was the white marble jug of wine she'd been enlisted to offer to guests and it certainly did not hold the warmth of a human body, nor the beating of a human heart.

She finally reached the end of the long, dusty corridor, stone floor turning to dirt as the blonde pushed open a battered wooden door. She was happy she was one of the few staff who knew of this back entrance to the castle, now disused and overgrown.

Sun filtered out through the hazy clouds, breathing a new sense of life into the servant as the wind died down behind her. The Enchanted Forest had that effect on her. For the bulk of her time she was stuck in the cold castle, being punished by the harsh, biting winds of the North Sea, and the damp surroundings of the Mountain it was built into. Yet right on its door step was the green beauty that surrounded the majority of the land, its life seemingly cut off by an invisible line surrounding the stone walls, instead being replaced with dead foliage and grey rocks.

Emma looked up behind her; the powerful stone monster loomed up behind her, its shadow falling short of the green haven that was present before her, inviting her to enter. She really didn't think the castle and its owner was that bad, if only highly misunderstood. The blonde's thoughts pondered on the evil that lurked in the Dark Palace; although the word 'palace' gave a sense of beauty and happiness, and the stone building certainly did not have either of them.

The servant walked happily into the Forest, not caring her skirt trailed along the floor. The chirping of birds sounded over her head, drawing Emma's eye. The blue bird sat inquisitively on a tree branch, its black eyes looking straight at Emma. It seemed unafraid of the human presence. Instead it flew around her head, its tiny wings beating the wind softly against her face.

She carried on, following a path only her feet could find, winding around fallen logs and tall trees. She exhaled a breathe proudly as she beamed at the modest dwelling hidden in the trees, it's wooden walls looking inviting as she noticed her the flowers were still growing. This was so normal compared to her usual residence.

This was home.

* * *

"No! We cannot lower the tax," The Queen shouted, rising from her throne, "unless you want the kingdom the fall!"

She was getting tired of the countless peasants asking for things she couldn't give. Twenty denied petitions later, she just wanted to throw them all out. But her mother had deemed it necessary to act nice to please the lower towns, although she really didn't see the point. They all hated her anyway.

"Now, dear, play nice. You don't want to scare off all our guests," the sickly sweet timbre of her mother's voice came sounding around the room. Regina turned, seeing the older woman walk up the centre of the throne room.

Regina's eyes darted towards the peasants standing in the far corner of the stone hall, "You know we can't lower tax. The kingdom would fall into ruin and the Charmings would be able to sweep in!"

"And you, my dear," Cora murmured, "need to appease the less fortunate than us. If you want power, you need to bend the rules a little."

Regina was fuming, glaring darkly at her mother. She heard the hushed whispers between the peasants – no-one would dare defy the Queen like that, yet there was one that still chose to. Regina turned away from the older brunette, closing her eyes to steady her emotions. It was her kingdom, and definitely her throne.

"Court dismissed," the Queen sent a dark, commanding look to the guard standing at the large wooden door. She certainly did not wish to be disturbed.

"Mother."

"Regina, dear."

"I'd much rather you didn't defy-" Regina's words were suddenly cut off from her.

"I have much more important issues to discuss instead of your silly little power complex. It has been rumoured that the Charmings are moving closer to our borders."

Regina sighed, knowing that they could cause trouble, "They're not a threat as long as they stay on their side of the border. They might just be out hunting."

"With scouts up in front of them?"

"It's a dangerous place, the Enchanted Forest," Regina murmured, running her hand over her eyes. She knew that the Charmings were being restless recently, with troops coming in from overseas, and that there was plenty talk of an upcoming war.

"Not if you're the infamous Snow White, apparently."

"We will see what happens when the time comes, Mother, just increase the number of troops on look out at the border," the brunette moved towards the door, her heels echoing over the stone walls.

"I'm not your Head of the Guard. Tell that to dear The Huntsman."

"I wish to be alone. Send for one of the servants…" Regina's hand rested daintily on the doorknob.

Cora laughed, although it sounded almost biting, "Should I call for one Miss Charming?"

"You're well aware she wouldn't remember that name, Mother," the brunette turned once more to the older woman, "and I'd prefer to keep it that way."

The face Regina expected at the door to her bedchambers certainly was not the blondes. Instead was the old hag, Dorothy, with her shaking hands and crooked back.

"Where is Miss Swan?" Regina inquired, her voice trying to sound nonchalant.

"We can't seem to find her around, Ma'am. She's probably run off again." The elderly woman filled the gold-plated bathtub sitting in the corner, the steam rising off the surface of the water.

"Again?"

"Yes, Ma'am. She's been disappearing rather a lot lately."

Regina felt her pulse quicken, her breathes coming out faster and deeper. _Shit. _

The bath abandoned, the Queen held up her dress and stormed out in search for the Head of the Guard.

* * *

"Snow?"

The dark haired woman turned to the source of the voice, noticing her husband walking up behind her, "Charming?"

Dusk was settling, the low sunlight streaming through the green shrubbery. They'd been on the road for 6 days, with rough camp being made each night as the sun set.

"Hey, what are you doing out here? You know the forest gets dangerous at night…" Charming's arm came to rest around the brunette, tucking her close into his body.

He noticed the light blue blanket held in her arms, the soft fabric brushing against his hand. The faint word 'Emma' scribed neatly at the corner.

"Just thinking."

A hum resonated from the man's throat, kissing the head of his wife softly. It had been nearly 10 years since they'd lost their daughter, all small and innocent back then. He remembered her blonde curls bouncing around her head as she ran through the courtyard, light making it seem like a golden halo over her head.

They were still looking for her, even after all this time. Every spare penny went to hiring more scouts to hunt for their long lost daughter, yet nobody had found her. It was just one 'nothing' after another.

"We could always go to him." Snow's voice was muffled by the leather of James' jacket; she sounded like she'd almost given up.

"If by him you mean Rumpletstiltskin, absolutely not," Charming pushed his wife away from him, brown eyes staring into dejected green.

Snow pulled the blanket closer to her, running her finger over the embroidered name, "He has hinted to us that he knows something- something that could find our daughter, James."

"And you know he's evil. Beyond evil."

Snow huffed slightly, falling into her husband's arms as she was engulfed by the smell of leather. Leather always was Emma's favourite.

"Will we ever find her?"

"We always find each other, and that means we'll find her too."

* * *

It was dark by the time Emma was at the foot of the castle, the dark stone almost invisible against the clear, pitch black sky. She still heard the heavy footsteps of guards across the wall above; it was nearing the next watch.

The blonde ducked her head under the stone archway leading into the cellar deep inside the castle. Coldness hit her as she passed into the threshold of the castle, almost like it was enchanted with something dark and evil. _Probably the Evil Queen_, Emma pondered as she grabbed a torch off its bracket. It was hardly darker than when she left, the dark stone walls always gave a sense of the castle, but it was even darker down in the depth of the castle, like the light of civilisation had moved up to the heat. Yet still the servants moved in the darkness, like the Queen was pushing them under to try keep them under the darkness, until they turned dark themselves.

Compared with the surrounding area, the Dark Palace was like a grey cloud on a rainy day, threatening to spill into the outskirts of the Enchanted Forest. Emma had heard tales of when the Palace was once a bright Summer House for the late King Leopold, and she remembered it faintly, like a distant light from her childhood. Not that she could remember anything early in her life. It all seemed like a blur, until she ended up here in the palace, already dark with the evil ruling of the Queen and her mother. The other servants muttered how since King Leopold's death, the Summerhouse turned into the dark and dreary place that they all now resided. They all secretly hoped the Ageless Couple would come and renew the light to the Palace, bringing it back to the true beauty that it held.

Emma, however, felt the darkness held a beauty in its own right, like something forbidden and certainly majestic. Anyway, what was good if you couldn't have evil to balance it?

The servant was snapped out of her thoughts by a sudden body in front of her, shining brightly in its silver platemail.

"Sir!" Emma cried out, not expecting to see him down in the depths of the castle. However, it was then that she realised she was higher than she thought, with the entrance to the Servants Quarters in front of her. She hid her muddied skirt behind her, pulling her overskirt over slightly.

"Miss Swan. The Queen is looking for you," The Huntsman asked, his brown hair pushed back into his half helm.

Emma paled slightly, knowing she would certainly notice her stained skirt, "May I go get changed first, I seem to have soiled my dress while tending to the horses…"

"Why would you have been tending the horses? Isn't that the stable boy's job?" the Huntsman's eyebrow quirked.

"You know the stable boys never do a good job," Emma stumbled over her words, "or at least never up to the Queen's standards."

"Yes, well. You'd better go get ready. You wouldn't want to keep the Queen waiting any longer than you already have. Bad things happen to people who make her wait."

Emma smirked at the man before her, knowing he was trying to put on an authoritative voice, "Oh, bite me," she muttered teasingly before walking off to her room.

It was three days before Emma could return to her cottage, and she was pushing it to go out this often.

As she walked through the woods, she recalled her conversation with the Queen three days ago, after she returned to the castle.

"_Where have you been?" The Queen shouted across the hall, startling a guard on duty. She was certainly more angry than Emma expected, she was surprised she couldn't see steam coming out of her ears._

"_I was out helping tend the horses. They've been particularly restless with the changing weather." Emma glided over her words smoothly. She always felt a certain air about the Queen when she was around, like she was keeping a secret._

"_And pray tell me why they had you do it?" The Queen stared deep into her eyes, knowing she was trying to assert her dominance._

_Emma shrugged nonchalantly, maintaining her stare with the Queen, "I'm good with horses."_

"_So you didn't leave the castle?" The brunette turned away from the blonde, her shoulders relaxing as she made her way over to the throne._

"_I just went down to the stables - no further, and certainly not past the wall." _

"_And it should definitely stay that way. If I see you sneaking out again, I will have to terminate your services."_

Emma mused on the Queen's last words, dripping with threat and malice. The blonde was well aware that no-one just got 'fired'. Instead they were killed quietly in the night by one of the Queen's many hired assassins. All the servants knew, but none of them ever talked about it. Perhaps that was why no-one ever put a foot out of line…

"Urgh, thank god." Emma breathed as she reached her little cottage. Her pace quickened as she ran up the path, the familiar cobblestones under her feet. She slipped the old key from her bag, feeling the satisfying turn of the lock as the door opened with a creak.

Emma paused, taking in the homely feel of the place, with the fireplace and the flowery wallpaper. It was so much brighter than her usual residence, with the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

She turned to the centre of the sitting area, the bright white of the empty canvas rested neatly on the oak easel. The blonde ran her fingers over the paintbrushes, feeling the hairs caress the tips of her digits.

It was time to paint.


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: I own none of Once Upon a Time or any of its characters.**

**A/N: So, here we are. Second chapter! This one is far longer than I expected it to be, mainly because there are several different plot elements in it. The next chapter probably won't be up for a while; I need to revise for my next exam. But I'll definitely update as soon as I can. I hope you enjoy this chapter, Rumple was very fun to write! Again, many thanks for **'hunnyfresh'**!**

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Chapter Two

It had been four days since the Charmings had received word that the Imp was acting strange, what with the repeated writings in that little book of his. The guards had to replenish his ink at least twice, the ink flowing deftly onto the page in the cursive handwriting of Rumplestiltskin, day after day.

The ride back to the Castle was fraught with worry, the fear Rumplestiltskin would rise again and cause mischief all over the kingdom looming over their heads. Of course, the affectionate 'Rumple' was all an act, as Belle had learnt when she was banished to her old town to watch it burn with the attacks of the ogres. The 'Ageless Couple' saw the capture of Rumplestiltskin as one of their finest hours, causing them even more favour with surrounding kingdoms and their subjects.

The hooves clattered on the light brown stone, the sun beating down on the couple and their guard. Tall tree's followed the winding road up to the castle, the lower towns gathered deep into the trees, taking cover under the large shadow of the Light Castle.

"Ma'am, Sir," The guard murmured under his helmet, his white and red doublet shining in the sun.

Charming turned, squinting as a sunbeam hit his face, "Yes, Master Lloyd?"

"The dungeon-keeper requested you go straight to the dungeon. He says it is a matter of upmost importance."

"Thank you. Find yourself and your men some ale, the sun is fierce today," Charming glanced at his wife before riding fast off into the distance.

"Do you think," Snow bit her lip lightly, not daring to believe anything, "that it's about Emma?"

Charming had hoped she had not asked that question. After 9 years, he knew their chances of finding their daughter were slim, with the worry that one day she had simply wandered off and gotten lost. The thought of his little girl out all alone in the woods was a terrifying thought. Although the wolves were on their side, they were still animal, with very real animal teeth.

"We can only hope. I wouldn't be surprised if the Imp suddenly decided to tell us something. We both know he's had something up his sleeve for many years…"

"But, what if we find out she's been alive all this time?" Snow murmured, the grief of a lost child suddenly hitting her. It had never really left, "What if she was all alone out there? She was only a child! She barely touched a sword!"

Snow felt her husband's arm come around her waist, their horses walking side by side, flanks touching.

"She's a Charming. She may be out alone, but in her heart, she certainly isn't."

The dungeon was dark and dreary, lines of unused cells lining the dirt walls. The flames danced against the tooth like doors to Rumplestiltskin's dungeon, almost bringing the bones alive.

"I knew you'd show up, dearies."

A dark figure loomed against the shadows of the rocks, the darkness resulting in only a voice being heard throughout the dungeon. The distant sounds of moving soldiers could be heard overhead, thick heavy boots sounding deep into the castle.

"We're here, Rumple. What do you want?" The pair threw off their hoods, the light flittering over their faces. Charming pulled his wife behind him, putting himself between her and the Imp now moving into the sunlight.

"Well, don't you want to hear what I have to say? I assure you you'll find it most interesting," the Imp's brogue came apparent as he hopped around the dungeon, arms flailing as he looked at the pair.

Charming stepped forward carefully, mindful of the dark green eyes staring into his. The shadows bouncing off the slippery skin of the Dark One almost made him look snake-like, his small eyes shining. The King knew the cell was enchanted prevent magic from entering, yet he was always cautious of the Dark One, the one who caused so much misery and pain. Perhaps he'd be better off dead, Charming thought, although he quickly banished his thoughts. Now was not the time to be considering the Imps death, certainly not when he clearly had meaningful knowledge.

"Well. I'm closer now. Say what you have to say," Charming stepped into the light streaming down into the dungeon. The sun now shined directly above them, giving the dark brown rocks an almost golden glow. Years ago, records said the land under the Enchanted Forest held deep ores of precious metals, the ground said to have glowed with all the colours, like the colours of light passing through a diamond.

The Imp moved lightning quick, faster than Charming's eyes could keep up with. He was close to the bars now, his slithery skin pressing against the cold bone bars. The putrid breath made Charming gag slightly, golden teeth gleaming.

"Your daughter has herself in quite a pickle," the Imp shouted, bouncing back gleefully as Snow charged at the cage, "really, dearie, I wonder who you got your wicked temper from?"

"Tell us where she is and we'll make a deal," Charming spoke through clenched teeth, forcing himself to hold his wife back rather than throw himself at the monster.

"Now, now," The Imp smirked, a wicked smile forming on his face. "We both know that would never happen. I'm far too dangerous for both of you." The Imp smirked, a wicked smile forming on his face.

The Imp flicked an invisible piece of dust off his pristine red waistcoat as he waited for the Charmings to decide his fate. He was surprised they were taking so long. The fast whispers and long stares proved to be interesting entertainment, the pair so renowned for being decisive bickering in the corner of his dungeon. Now he thought about it, he really should have brightened the place up a bit, perhaps his old tea cup...

"Rumplestiltskin. Tell us all you know and we will grant you one wish," Charming aggressively stood his ground, ignoring his wife's pleas behind him.

"Very well dearie. Your dear child has got herself mixed up in a rather interesting prophecy - one that will certainly shape your future, and my own."

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Charming threw a look towards the Imp, his brain figuring out how long he could have known.

"You really don't understand the workings of prophecies? What do they teach young princes these days? Oh, I forgot about your rather rustic upbringing…" Rumplestiltskin laughed brightly.

"Stop with the games, Spinner, and just tell us!" The shorter man straightened as his old name was exclaimed.

The Imp fixed his eyes on White Queen, her eyes defiantly joining his in a long stare, "No need to get personal, dearie. It's just a bit of fun. Prophecies weren't made at the dawn of time. They only come to light when the circumstances and the people involved a right. And oh look, a rhyme," winking at the Queen.

"And this prophecy: It only came to light recently?" Snow stepped in front of her husband, pulling her arm out of Charming's grasp.

"Why yes, dearie. Otherwise I would have told you sooner. There are some secrets that cannot just be kept from people."

Snow felt her breath catch in her throat; the realisation dawned on her, "That means Emma is alive? She's safe?"

The Imp whined a high pitched, unsure note, "Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say she is safe. But she is very much alive."

"And where is she? Can you take us to her?" Charming urged on the small man, watching the snake-like tongue flick out to wet chapped lips.

The Imp laughed, spinning around the dungeon as he grinned smugly at the pair. It was glorious knowing more than them, although the powers of the Seer had made the feeling a lot more frequent. Seeing the past, the present, the future, it clearly was going to be a ball.

"Well, that would take all the fun away," The Imp smirked, "plus the prophecy can't be changed. It is a prophecy after all. Fate, some might call it."

"And what kind of fate is held for a daughter?"

Rumplestiltskin smiled, his tongue darting out again, "Oh, a very interesting one, believe me - two chess pieces, bound by a fate that one bestowed. The saviour will fall in love, the picture she paints destined bring peace to all the realms. But ultimately, one choice will shape the future of this land forever, on whether the Knight will topple or rein the chessboard mighty."

The pair stared at the Imp, his palms held against the gaps of the bars, eyes protruding from the palms, "What of our Emma?"

"She is the saviour, of course. Her fate will bring evil to the ground, but only if the War happens, the War that will end all turmoil and wars."

"You mean we must fight? Against who? Whose army?"

"Oh, I think you know dearies."

"What do you mean they're sending troops this way?" Regina shrieked at the Keeper of Ravens, fuming as she walked across the room.

"I mean they are sending a battalion, probably 3,000 in number. But I expect more will arrive soon, your Highness."

"Whose banners?" Regina screamed, taking a small amount of pleasure in watching the elderly man flinch.

"The- the Charmings, your Majesty. They carry the banners of the Ageless Couple." The old man turned away as a flick of a wrist told him his services were no longer needed. The battalion looked strong, with clear red and white banners floating on their poles, the wind making them seem almost beautiful. The thought quickly left his mind as he recalled the large catapults appearing over the ridges. He knew it would be months before enough men were assembled to start anything resembling a war, yet the threat right on their doorstep meant one thing - a very angry Evil Queen.

"Where's my mother gone? She needs to hear of this little development," Regina shouted at the lone guard standing at the door, his black and purple doublet blending into the black wood of the door.

"I- I believe she went down to the Stables. She said the stable boys weren't doing a good job," the guard coughed slightly as he felt the Queen's gaze land on him, dark brown eyes piercing.

Great, Regina pondered, first the threat of the Charmings and now another reminder of Daniel. She honestly didn't want to be Queen at first, although at her mother's her request she'd been moulded  
by the darkness that resided in her heart. Perhaps if things had turned out differently…

Cora Mills turned from a rather scared looking boy, his arms full of saddles, "Ah, dear, I got word from the guard you wanted to see me. You really should make them do more of your dirty work. A Queen should be act higher than everyone else - it is her right after all."

Regina groaned internally, tired of hearing the talk that was forced onto her from before she could remember. She was not even of royal blood; Snow is the rightful Queen of the whole land, including her Kingdom.

"I thought this news would be best heard from me," Regina sighed, sending the boy away, "The 'Ageless Couple' are moving in with an army. I suspect they will pledge war, if they feel they can beat our defences…"

"Oh, well this is glorious, dear!" Cora cried, pulling her daughter into a hug, although her smile resembled evil, not happiness, "We have the ability to show Emma off, show them what a lovely little servant she has become, and how she… pleases the queen."

Regina felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Her eyes flashed to that night, the heated touches and lonely morning. She saw her mother was watching her slyly, dark eyes reminiscent of her own glaring at her, watching every emotion. She forced herself to forget about that night, it certainly meant nothing to her, and certainly not to Miss Swan.

"Now, we both know that our defences alone are not strong enough. The Charmings have the people of the forests, but I believe we can make allegiances with the kingdom of Albion. I hear King Uther recently lost his wife and bears a son. It would be unwise to pass the opportunity for controlling the West."

"Are you proposing I marry the king?" Regina turned away from her mother, trying to hide the emotions coursing through her. Flashbacks to King Leopold and his sickening touches made her gag slightly, her marriage had certainly been one of convince, not of love.

"Although your last marriage ended… distastefully, I hear Uther is a lot more lenient than the late King Leopold."

"We don't need Uther's men. With the exiles from the Kingdom of the Ageless Couple, I see it unlikely that their numbers will be greater than ours," Regina smiled, knowing she'd caught her mother out.

"Do you honestly think they would give up their lives? For what?" Cora chuckled menacingly, "A bit of money from a Queen that does not have the strength to fight alone?"

"I have the one strength that will make the 'Ageless Couple' fall to their knees."

"You're honestly going to use their daughter as bait? You know they will rampage our kingdom as soon as you hand her over."

Regina sighed, knowing that war was going to be a future she could not avoid. Tensions had been rising at the border for years, with Snow's little animals manning the border against any of her scouts. She knew she should have killed her years ago, when she actually had the chance. Instead she had her head on the line, knowing her mother would not waste a second throwing her the wolves if it meant saving her power. She tried to recall when she became like a puppet to her mother, strings moving close to the snarling teeth that was the Charmings, desperate to find their daughter.

She then realised that it had always been that way. Ever since she could remember, her mother forced hideous ideologies down her throat, the right to be Queen almost became instilled in her, like her blood had actually been Royal blood, not the dirty and weak blood of a mere Miller's daughter.

"What do you suggest we do then, Mother?" Regina tried to put on a smile, knowing that her mother would perhaps think she was strong enough on her own.

"I intend to invite King Uther and his guard for a treaty signing, where he can see you in all your glory as a powerful queen."

Regina doubted why the hopeful thought had crossed her mind, knowing her mother was not capable of such belief. Regina was always a disappointment to her, her kingdom pushed into the dark corner of the Enchanted Forest with little hope of gaining land without a war.

Regina tried to put on a brave face, the nineteen-year-old self rearing her weak head as she faced another forced marriage. Her mother had tried to assure her that Uther was better than King Leopold, yet Regina severely doubted that.

Emma paused outside the entrance to the Castle's courtyard, mindful of the woman who was waiting on the other side of the wall.

The Queen had been in a hideous mood since it was announced that the Castle would be playing host to King Uther and his men, from the far West lands of Albion. Emma had never heard of such a place, but mutters from other servants suggested it was a vast land of rolling hills, with Castle Camelot standing vast in the ridges north of the Kingdom.

Their carriages, draped in gold had been spotted coming along the West Road, the few trees growing there making the gold almost sparkle. They were due in an hour, and the Queen's mother had asked her to be fetched to prepare for their arrival.

Emma pushed the doubts from her mind, knowing that the Queen couldn't have noticed her sneaking out, pushing out of the Castle and into the forest. Although the cottage was on Regina's land, the blonde was certain she wouldn't be happy with Emma's escapades.

"Ma'am?" Emma hung her head low, wary of looking directly into the Queen's eyes. The servant could picture the Queen as a black cat, the feline threatened by anything that made sharp eye contact. Emma knew the notion was ridiculous, yet the thoughts of the vanishing servants that were caught sneaking out plagued her mind, making her voice crack slightly.

Regina's dark eyes drew up from her apply tree, instead focusing on the servant standing there. She knew the party would be arriving soon, for a meeting she certainly did not want to have.

"What do you want, Ms Swan?" Regina asked, forcing her voice to sound harsh.

Emma flinched slightly, wondering how she ever got lumbered in this job, facing a particularly angry Evil Queen, "Your mother asks for you to join her in the Throne Room."

Regina sighed, knowing that she could not defy her mother with King Uther so close to the castle. Regina did not wish to show much emotion around the man, hoping he would see her as an unloving wretch and refuse to marry her. Regina knew she was being childish, but the haunts of her marriage King Leopold tormented her.

Regina stepped away from her apple tree. The green leaves and the dark red apples had always given her a sense of peace, knowing that she could help something so natural come to life and flourish. A trader had given it to her as a small child, where she had tended it until full growth.

Regina turned to the servant, noticing her still standing there, moving from one foot to the other, "That will be all, Miss Swan."

"Your Majesty, your mother insisted I should escort you to her."

Regina laughed. She asked herself why she put up with her mother, when she was the one who truly ruled the kingdom.

"Very well, Miss Swan, see me to my _fine_ King," Regina seethed.

They were well into the castle's corridors when Emma decided to break the harsh tension in the air surrounding them. She never had any reason to feel anything particular about the Queen, yet there had always been an undeniable tension between the two of them, like the Queen was waiting to pounce on Emma and blame her for everything.

"You don't have to do this, you know," The servant murmured, pushing her blonde curls out of her eyes," You don't have to marry him."

Regina looked menacingly at Emma, not believing what had just come out of her mouth. Maybe she had inherited Snow's trait of asking questions that shouldn't be asked. She'd thought she'd removed as much of the Charming's as she could when she cast the curse, but clearly that troublesome streak reigned supreme.

"When you have a mother like mine, you know not to defy expectations," Regina wasn't entirely sure why she was telling a servant her worries, let alone the captured daughter of the Ageless Couple. She heard her mother's voice whisper quietly in her head, the derogatory tone lacing her words, _You are above them, Regina. You do not have to answer to anyone. _Regina laughed silently at the irony of the situation. Her mother controlled her every move, so much so that Regina was surprised that her mother did not rule the kingdom herself. She'd always wanted her daughter to reign over the land, yet the darkness and want to remove herself from pity and poverty sickened Cora Mills like the plague, not doubting war to just gain one more ounce of power.

Emma's eyes swept down, feeling the emptiness in her heart where her family should have resided, "I don't have a mother."

Regina felt pity for her for a moment, forgetting temporarily that she herself had caused Emma to grow up without a mother – or at least thinking she didn't have one. She was almost thankful that Emma didn't have a mother, so the possibility of having one like hers had no way to grow.

The brunette chided herself. These words were certainly not fit for a Queen, especially one labelled as Evil. Perhaps she was getting soft in her compliancy with Emma, that she no longer saw herself as the offspring of her enemy. Instead, she cast herself back to that night, some 14 years ago. She watched her fiancée's heart crushed to dust, the only heart that ever truly loved her. She watched Snow's smug face, thinking she had done the right thing by telling Cora. Regina grimaced at the teenage Princess, the act she'd just caused so not like her usual innocent temperament.

Emma halting brought her back to the present, respectfully keeping the distance that Regina wished she had kept all the way through her journey. She certainly did not need Emma on her mind, the servant seeming more human, even in her cursed state. The thought of the upcoming war loomed over her. Would they really win without the help of Uther?

"That will be all."

"Good luck with your King, your Majesty."

Regina was happy that Emma had restored the balance of hierarchy as she walked off, knowing that the blonde would stay on her mind if there was any words left unsaid. She wasn't sure why she had opened herself up to the servant. Maybe it was because she seemed so like Regina was before Daniel's death – inquisitive. Regina cast her mind back once again to the brighter days, the days where she still had hope that her life would end happy.

The Queen was brought out of her rambling thoughts as the guard opened the door, the dark curtain-covered windows letting little rays into the large throne room.

"Ah, there you are, Regina!" Her mother called out, putting on a pleasant smile that Regina had gotten so used to seeing.

A tall man stood at her presence, silhouetted by the torches that lined the cold, stone walls. Regina was surprised to see he was rather thin, knowing the eating habits of most kings, although the pompous, smug grin on his face clearly placed him back into the realms of the normal kings of the land.

"Your Majesty," King Uther bowed before Regina, kissing her hand lightly, blue eyes never leaving her brown.

Regina grimaced, knowing that the King had far too much arrogance on a first meeting. She glanced over to her mother, a sickly sweet smile gracing her features, although her eyes held a stone coldness that proved to Regina that she was only in it for the power.

She wondered what she had told him.

"I hope your journey was pleasant, my Lord?" Regina asked, bringing forward her pleasantries that had been forced into her mouth from such a young age.

"It was most long, but the forests are large relief from the expanse of land in Albion."

"I hear the Kingdom is very lovely."

"Ah yes, much more now that magic has been banished…"

Regina scowled, feeling her blood run cold as she realised what her mother had planned. Knowing that the King had banned magic within his Kingdom would mean Regina would be practically powerless, placing her mother in prime position for Queen.

The throne room seemed to get darker as Regina listened to the King about the destruction and evil that magic-holders have caused. She suddenly felt trapped, knowing that the magic she possessed was forced on to her by her mother, not out of the natural born talent that some sorcerers hold.

"I believe you should come to Albion right away, to get started on the planning. My people have been lost without a fair lady to show them peace."

Regina looked up, knowing that the King had placed her in an impossible position. Her mind flashed back to her 19 year old self, facing another similar King, although he was so much more heartbroken about his wife's death.

The Queen doubted how much King Uther actually loved his wife, although she could see the bitterness that ran threw him was akin to hers, with magic tearing her life apart.

For a moment, Regina felt sorry for the King, trapped in an evil path as magic spread across his kingdom. Yet this was only a fleeting thought, instead her mind swept to his supposed babe son, now without a mother yet seemingly dismissed by his father. Regina could never become his mother, knowing how children went against her will. The face of a younger Snow White crossed her mind, 17 years old as she watched close by as Daniel's lifeless body fell. She could never trust a King's child again.

"I think you believe wrongly, my Lord. I most certainly will not come with you!" Regina was taken aback by his bluntness, although she was not sure why she was so surprised, the arrogance spread over his face as he realised he had another Queen in his grasp.

The Queen's face grew sullen, knowing that she could not be forced into another loveless marriage, full of warranted rape and backhanded blows.

She felt the magic push through her, although her mind consciously recognised it was her anger taking over, not her will. The black tendrils seeped out of the purple mist in her palm, winding their way around the King's body, not all so different to the one's she had been bound in by her mother.

He cried out, drawing his sword at the roots, slashing as the purple smoke just multiplied them, like a hawk leeching onto it's prey.

Regina felt a hard smack across her face, cold rings cutting her cheek. A large hand grabbed her throat, magic flowed to a stop as the King slowly took the breath out of her, the tendrils disappearing in the purple smoke.

"How dare you use your disgusting magic against me," the King hissed, pressing his thumb hard into her windpipe, "you foul, loathsome creature!"

Regina shrunk back, her eyes seeking out her mothers, seeing they were filled with glee.

"If you decide to come to Albion to be my wife, you must give up your wicked ways and be purged of this virus inside of you. It will not be welcome in my kingdom, nor will my forces follow someone of such dirty blood."

"We don't need your army." Regina forced her word out with escaping air, trying not to gag at the putrid breath of the King.

"Then what of your marriage offer? I'm not as dumb as you think, Your Majesty," the King muttered, "I know you need men, with those little Charming's on your doorstep."

"We're strong enough without you."

"They will crush your little kingdom and lock you up like all your kind should be," he finally let go of her throat, smiling slightly at the purple bruises now forming on the pale skin. It almost matched the purple of her dress.

Regina steadied herself, feeling her resolve grow strong as she moved back into the cold demeanour of the Evil Queen. Her frightened 19 year old self that found its way into her emotions was once again firmly kept under lock and key, a stone-hard expression now on her face.

"I believe that will be all, my Lord. I hope you have a pleasant journey home."

The brunette swiftly knocked off her mothers retorts, leaving the King fuming with rage. She scolded herself for looking so weak, knowing that it could prove very harmful for her kingdom if the Kingdom of Albion joined the forces with the Ageless couple.

She pushed open the doors once more, sending a dark look to the guard. A smirk passed over her face as she noticed him shiver nervously.

That smirk quickly faded as she noticed the blonde sitting on the dark steps, rubbing her bare arms to keep warm against the harsh winds.

"What are you still doing here, Miss Swan? I didn't employ you to sit on steps all day."

The servant stood hastily, smoothing down her dirtied dress, "I just wanted to know if you needed anything else, your Majesty."

"That will be all. I do not wish to be disturbed for the rest of the night."

Regina watched the servant shuffle nervously under her gaze, fingers pulling a loose thread on the beige skirt, "Beg your pardon, your Majesty, but you seem hurt…"

The blonde's hand flinched towards the Queen, almost like the servant's subconscious wished to soothe the cut on the brunette's cheek, standing out harshly against the pale, white skin.

Regina's own hand flicked, although with a much more surer action. Purple smoke engulfed her cheek and neck, removing the marks from her body. She watched the blonde's eyes spark with fear, but then replaced with an inquisitiveness that showed something dangerous to her.

The Queen coughed slightly, motioning for the servant to move along, "As I said, that will be all."

Emma dutifully curtsied, blushing as she realised her forwardness with her employer.

"Apologies, Ma'am."

Regina nodded, before escaping to her chambers to avoid the expected angry shouts of her mother.

It was near midnight by the time Emma reached the quaint cottage, the moon almost giving it a dangerous feel as the normal bright colours of the stone seemed diminished.

Emma placed her basket down lightly, unlocking the door before moving into the dark space. Candles were lit hurriedly, the blank canvas sitting where it had been left days ago, it's lack of life calling to the blonde.

Emma glanced around, making sure everything was in order before sitting down at the rickety stool that seemed so familiar.

She sat staring at the blank canvas for hours, the only thing changing being the clouds running past the moon, shadows forming on the canvas.

Shots of memories and thoughts ran through the servants mind, creating a picture that she knew was perfect – the perfect painting that she could do.

Her pencil ran hurriedly over the page, dark strokes created like it had a life of it's own, fed off her thoughts and ideas. The image formed slowly, the rough outline of a woman was born, her arm raised to fight off a mysterious invisible threat.

The threat however showed itself, the pencil creating smooth long strokes of a human-shaped monstrosity, its body mixed in with all kinds of mysterious creatures. The dark hair was outlined into a stark bun that reminded Emma so much of her Queen, a coldness placed into its eyes, so similar to what she'd seem today as her employer stormed out of the Throne Room.

Finally, bright wings were sketched, their feathers showing a faith and belief so deeply contrasting the dark body of the monster – a belief in good. Emma frowned slightly, remembering the dark demeanour of the brunette, and how much self-loathing she saw in her eyes.

Hours later, the painting was sketched, the wings hastily rubbed out in a fit of anger, an anger that worried Emma.


End file.
